


nisht ahin, nisht aher

by xslytherclawx



Series: (ravenclaw au - trio era) [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Hermione Granger, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Gen, Jewish Character, Jewish Harry Potter, Jewish Hermione Granger, Jewish Remus Lupin, Shabbat | Sabbath | Sabt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-05 04:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17911802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: It starts out simply enough. Professor Lupin makes an offhand comment as he’s seeing Harry off from their first lesson on the Patronus Charm. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to wish you a happy Chanukah earlier, but I hope you had a pleasant celebration regardless.”-Or: in which Harry Potter discovers that he's Jewish





	nisht ahin, nisht aher

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly cannot remember how this idea came to me, but once it did, it wouldn't leave. This follows in with my Ravenclaw AU, and has some spoilers for that, but no more than any other trio-era fic I've written, and you haven't actually got to read it to understand what's going on.
> 
> Thanks to everyone from the discord server for helping me workshop this and get it from a little drabble to an actual oneshot, especially Muggle and Elia for looking over the finished product, and Maggie for helping with the title!
> 
> the title is Yiddish, and means "neither here nor there"

It starts out simply enough. Professor Lupin makes an offhand comment as he’s seeing Harry off from their first lesson on the Patronus Charm. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to wish you a happy Chanukah earlier, but I hope you had a pleasant celebration regardless.”

Harry stops and stares at his professor. “Er…?”

“Chanukah,” Professor Lupin repeats. “It started December eighth this year.”

“Hermione celebrates Chanukah,” Harry says, “but – I don’t. I’m not – I’m not Jewish, sir.”

There’s something briefly pained in Lupin’s expression, and it’s enough to make Harry stop. “Professor?”

“I knew – your mother, as well.  _ She _ was Jewish – and Judaism is traditionally passed down on the mother’s side, so you are, by Jewish law, Jewish yourself.”

Harry can’t think of anything to say to that, because he knows that Aunt Petunia is his mother’s sister, and surely if his  _ mother _ were Jewish, than his aunt would be as well? But then why had they always done Christmas and Easter at Privet Drive, and never once Chanukah or Passover?

* * *

He asks Hermione, because not only has she always seemed to know more about his family than he has, but she’s also Jewish herself.

“What d’you mean you didn’t know?” Hermione asks. “I thought – your aunt is your mother’s sister? Did they have different mothers?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry says. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about any of this.”

“She never told you?”

Harry shook his head, feeling angry and ashamed. “No. She never said anything about this.”

Hermione runs up to her room and returns with a volume on modern wizarding history. In typical Hermione fashion, she seems to know just what she’s looking for; she has the book open and is pointing to a specific passage within seconds. “Look!”

So he does.

It mentions that Lily Potter (his mother) was from a Muggle Jewish family in the Midlands.

“I don’t know about your father,” Hermione says. “I’ve not found anything like that on him, but your mother – she was definitely Jewish. Which would mean you’re Jewish. And…” she drops her voice and leans in, “haven’t you had a bris, anyway?”

“A what?”

“A bris,” Hermione repeats. “It’s a ritual circumcision.”

Harry thinks, then, back to all the times he’d been teased by his classmates (and, in particular, by Dudley) back at that horrible primary school. He’d asked his aunt, against his better judgement, and she’d said it was from the accident that had killed his parents.

In retrospect, he realises how stupid an explanation that was. 

He feels Hermione place a hand on his back. “Harry?”

Harry can’t unclench his teeth. “My aunt… told me it was… from the accident. But there  _ was _ no accident, so  _ obviously _ that’s not true, and…”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione says. “That’s really just awful. I don’t know what to say.”

Harry has always wished to know more about his parents, and has always latched onto every single connection he’s been able to find to them. “It’s not your fault, ‘Mione.”

“I have loads of books that you can borrow,” Hermione says. “And a few of us like to meet up before dinner on Friday nights to – to have services. You’d be welcome to join us, you know. You’ll know Anthony Goldstein already, and then there’s the Margolieses – they’re in Ravenclaw, but not in our year, and they’re very nice, too.”

“I don’t know anything about being Jewish,” Harry says.

“Well, that’s all right,” Hermione says. “We’ll help you. I can explain everything as we go. And Anthony’s really good at explaining the magical bits.”

* * *

Harry finds himself going with Hermione to a classroom on the second floor the following night, which happens to be a Friday. He’s not entirely sure what to expect; he knows, from what Hermione says, that it’s a small gathering.

Anthony Goldstein is there when they arrive, and he greets Hermione warmly. Harry notices that Anthony is wearing a white shawl with dark blue stripes, and a small black skullcap. Harry doesn’t know the words for what Anthony is wearing off the top of his head, but he knows enough to know that whatever it’s called, it’s something traditionally, ritually Jewish.

“Harry! Hello!” Anthony greets warmly. “Gut shabbos!”

“Er, hello, Anthony,” Harry says.

“Gut shabbos, Anthony!” Hermione says, pulling a shawl out of her own bag, murmuring something in a foreign language, and wrapping it around herself. Her shawl, Harry notes, is gold with red stripes. Gryffindor colours. Something about it makes Harry feel a bit more at ease. “You didn’t bring your Ravenclaw tallis tonight?”

“I was feeling something a bit more traditional,” Anthony says. “Professor Lupin said he’d try to stop by tonight.”

“He did?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Anthony said. “I mentioned that we have services on shabbos, and he said that wasn’t something he had at Hogwarts, so he wanted to see what it’s like.”

“No one told me!” Hermione said.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, ‘Mione,” Harry said.

“He’s right,” Anthony said. “You lead the services practically half the time.”

Harry feels as if he has to say something, because both Hermione and Professor Lupin thought he’d always known he was Jewish – up until Professor Lupin asked him about Chanukah. It feels awkward to just sit next to Hermione and pretend as if he understands what’s going on, even though he knows Hermione will let him do just that. So he says, as Anthony Goldstein lays out a handful of books with Hebrew lettering “I didn’t know I was Jewish until yesterday.”

He’s sure he’s not imagining the way Anthony freezes for just a fraction of a second too long, or the shadow that passes over his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it arrives. “That’s all right, then, Never too late to become observant – if that’s what you want, anyway. I mean, my uncle’s a rabbi, and I’m sure even he’d agree with that. We’ll go slow, and you can stop us if you’ve got any questions. Our siddurim all have transliterations, too – more accessible that way. Not everyone can read Hebrew.”

“Oh,” Harry says, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “Erm, thanks, Anthony.”

“Of course,” Anthony says. “More than anything, I think, Judaism is about community.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Harry is saved from having to reply. Hermione calls for whoever it is to come in. Professor Lupin enters the small classroom. 

“Gut shabbos, Professor!” Anthony greets. 

“Gut shabbos,” Professor Lupin returns. His gaze falls on Harry. “Harry! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Hermione told me about it, sir,” Harry says. “My aunt… never told me I was Jewish at all. If you hadn’t asked me about Chanukah…”

Lupin looks pained. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Professor, you said that you went to school with my mother – did she do something like this?”

“No,” Lupin says. “To my knowledge, when I was in school, there were only five or six of us who were Jewish, and just the two of us in Gryffindor.”

Anthony furrows his brows. “You were two years behind my parents, weren’t you, Professor Lupin?” 

“I was,” Lupin says. “They were Head Boy and Head Girl my fifth year.”

“Then you’d probably know my uncle Iain. He was in their year – and he was another Jew in Gryffindor.”

“Oh,” Lupin says. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, that’s part of why we have this now,” Anthony said. “Gina Scamander came up with the idea – you’d have gone to school with her uncle Max; he’s always been really close with my uncle Isaac.”

“I did know Max and Isaac,” Lupin says. “Not very well, admittedly, but I think everyone knew Max Scamander. Do you – know how they are?”

“They’re both doing really well. Uncle Isaac’s a rabbi at the wizarding shul in Finchley, and he’s married with two kids. His husband’s still with the Prophet, but he’s trying to find something better.”

“His  _ husband?” _ Lupin repeats.

Anthony nods. “Yeah. My uncle Dan. He’s American, though, so I don’t think you’d know him if you didn’t – already know him.”

“And Max? How is he?”

“He writes romance novels and lives with his Quidditch player husband in Diagon.”

“Quidditch player?” Harry asks, attention piqued. “There are Jewish  _ Quidditch players?” _

“I’m sure there are, but Max’s husband isn’t Jewish – he  _ is _ the Seeker for Tutshill, though.”

“Oh,” Lupin says. “Max – married  _ him?” _

“Did you know Reg, too?” Anthony asks. 

“I – yes,” Lupin says. “We were prefects together. Last I’d heard, they were together, but I wasn’t aware they’d properly married.”

“I think they’ve just had their ten years,” Anthony says.

“Oh,” Lupin says. “Ten years would make sense.”

“‘Mione, do you know any Jewish Quidditch players?” Harry asks, feeling bored of this conversation, but not really wanting to interrupt.

“Oh, er, I don’t know about British ones,” Hermione says, “but there  _ is _ Viktor Krum. He’s Bulgarian, I think.”

“Oh,” Harry says.”

“I’m sure we could do some research on it,” Hermione says. “He can’t be the  _ only _ one, and it’s not as if there are proportionately fewer Jews in the Wizarding world than the Muggle one. There are two major Wizarding synagogues in London alone.”

“There are?” 

Hermione nods. “Yes. Anthony’s uncle is a rabbi at one of them. And there are a few more throughout the U.K. We could plan a visit over holidays if you – if you can get away. You’re not terribly far from London, and my parents  _ are _ perfectly normal Muggles. We could drive out to pick you up.”

It sounds too good to be true, and Harry knows that that’s probably because it is. Still, the idea helps, a bit, when faced with the reality of going back to Privet Drive.

“Shall we begin?” Anthony asks. “Hermione, I know you wanted to lead tonight.”

“Oh, yes,” Hermione says. “Let’s start with a song, shall we?”

* * *

Harry walks to the Great Hall with the other students from the group. He doesn’t feel quite like he belongs, and he knows he has a little while yet before he feels comfortable with his Jewishness. Hermione goes on about all the different ways to be Jewish while Anthony agrees genially. 

“You know, Harry,  _ I _ was a bit overwhelmed when I first started looking into Wizarding Judaism, but everyone’s been  _ very _ nice and more than willing to answer any questions I’ve had.”

“She’s had a  _ lot _ of questions,” Anthony says. “And a few times we’ve had to write my uncle – the rabbi, not the journalist or the potioneer – and he’s always happy to answer any questions we’ve got about Jewish law or scripture. So if you’ve got the odd question that Hermione  _ can’t _ answer – or if you just want a different perspective – definitely feel free to ask me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” Harry says.

They reach the Great Hall, and Harry feels a rush of gratitude when he sees Ron with two free spaces between himself and Neville. His entire sense of self may have shifted slightly over the past two days, but this is comfortingly familiar. He says a quick goodbye to Anthony, who’s been nothing but nice, and makes a beeline for Ron.

“I can’t believe you willingly spent an hour with Hermione and a gang of Ravenclaws,” Ron says when Harry sits down next to him. “Are you  _ mental?” _

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on [tumblr](https://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/) to discuss Jewish Harry Potter headcanons or anything else!


End file.
